Free Tangled Rose by Abby Weeks Page A

Serge entered the room Rose almost felt as if the other men bowed a little to him. They had their heads down and they were looking at the ground. They gave him such respect and she knew it was out of nothing more than fear.
    “What’s going on?” Serge said when he came in.
    He was smoking a cigar and he flicked the ash onto the floor. Fat Boy spoke up.
    “I was just telling Patrice the deal.”
    “Good,” Serge said, looking at Patrice. “You ready to become a man, boy.”
    Patrice looked at him. Then he looked at Rose. She begged him with her eyes not to do whatever it was that Serge was going to make him do. She begged him to have mercy on her. At least that was the message she tried to express to him in her look.
    “Yes,” Patrice said, holding her gaze.
    “It’s no small thing,” Serge continued, “becoming a fully patched member of the Dark Rebel Motorcycle Club.”
    “Really? A fully patched member?”
    “That’s what I said,” Serge said. “Are you sure you’ve got what it takes?”
    “I’m sure,” Patrice said.
    “Good,” Serge said.
    He walked slowly over to the bed and looked down at Rose.
    “What happened here?”
    Fat Boy cleared his throat.
    “I think she had an accident,” he said.
    “You mean you made her piss herself.”
    Fat Boy didn’t say anything to that but he nodded his head.
    “You’re a mean bastard, Fat Boy.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    Serge was shaking his head but he was smiling.
    “Look at her,” he said to Patrice. “She’s pissed herself.”
    Patrice looked into her eyes. Again she tried to plead with him but she was too afraid to speak. She said nothing. She just looked into his eyes with a mixture of terror and desperation.
    “She’s disgusting,” Serge said. “Isn’t she?”
    Patrice was still looking at her. Rose was begging him with her eyes not to give in, not to do whatever it was they were going to ask him to do. It wasn’t too late. He could still fight this. Men like Serge Gauthier didn’t have to rule the world. If good men stood up to them, the world could be a better place.
    “Isn’t she?” Serge said again.
    Patrice looked up at him and Rose saw something in his eyes. It was a hint of resistance, like he was going to fight back. She thought that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t going to let Serge dictate everything. Maybe it wasn’t too late for her. Maybe she could still fight this. Maybe Patrice was able to see past everything that Fat Boy had done to her, everything that this place had done to her. It wasn’t her fault she was covered in piss. Maybe Patrice was willing to fight for her.
    But then Patrice spoke.
    “She is,” he said. “She’s disgusting.”
    “That’s my boy,” Serge said with a big grin spreading on his face. “Maybe you’re ready for your patch, after all.”
    “I’m ready,” Patrice said. “I’m ready for anything.”
    “Are you ready to do whatever the club needs from you?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Are you ready to become a man?”
    “Yes, sir,” Patrice said louder.
    “Are you ready to get your patch tonight?”
    Patrice looked up at him. “You mean it?”
    “If you say you’re ready,” Serge said, “then I mean it. There’s just one thing I need you to do to prove yourself.”
    Patrice was already nodding. “Anything,” he said.
    “I need you to fuck her.”

XVII
    W HEN ROSE HEARD THOSE WORDS she knew that it was already over. There was no point even trying to resist this or hope that it could turn out any differently. Patrice wasn’t a hero. He wasn’t going to take on the might of the DRMC in order to protect her. He was just a prospect for the club and the only thing he was worried about was getting his patch.
    Patrice looked conflicted, like he was having a hard time with what Serge was telling him to do.
    “You made me fall for her just so that you could use her to test me, didn’t you?” Patrice said.
    “Every member’s got to go through a test,” Serge said. “You can’t ride